


Triple Word Score

by spirograph



Category: The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirograph/pseuds/spirograph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It's okay if you don't want to,” Andy says, still kneeling in front of him on the bed, fingers wrapped tightly around a bright purple dildo which looks...well, it looks a lot more ridiculous than it had the day Eddie bought it. Ten million times more mortifying than when Andy found it a few hours ago, stashed in Eddie's cupboard behind an old copy of scrabble which he'd thought <i>no one would ever want to play.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Triple Word Score

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the [Bulletverse](http://archiveofourown.org/series/9360) by augustbird.

Eddie closes his eyes, holds his breath and counts slowly down from five. 

Four. 

Three. 

Tw--

“It's okay if you don't want to,” Andy says, still kneeling in front of him on the bed, fingers wrapped tightly around a bright purple dildo which looks...well, it looks a lot more ridiculous than it had the day Eddie bought it. Ten million times more mortifying than when Andy found it a few hours ago, stashed in Eddie's cupboard behind an old copy of scrabble which he'd thought _no one would ever want to play_. Stomach twisting with nerves and absolute soul destroying horror, he remembers how it had fallen onto the floor, rolled out of the tattered shirt he had wrapped it up in. And god, he cringes when he remembers how they had both stared at it, shocked into silence, Eddie's jaw dropping open so far he was almost certain it would dislocate and _fall off his face completely._

Back to the present and Andy is grinning at him, all teeth and gums and an honest-to-god _leer_. Eddie shifts uncomfortably, trying to focus on the question. On Andy's question. The question which had ended with something that sounded suspiciously like “...and can I watch?” 

The dildo wiggles slightly and Eddie chews on his bottom lip. This is not how he planned to spend his Friday night. In fact, this is not how he imagined he would spend any night. _Ever_. He's nodding before he can stop himself and Andy's eyes sparkle with what Eddie can only assume is excitement. 

Andy places the dildo down near Eddie's knee and shuffles sideways, manoeuvres himself until he's sitting cross-legged with his hands clasped tightly together over the spot where his shin presses into his calf. Eddie swallows, mouth suddenly bone dry under Andy's expectant gaze. He reaches for the collar of his shirt, worries the top buttons between his thumb and forefinger for a moment before unfastening them. And it's stupid, really, how nervous he is all of a sudden, hands trembling as he eases the shirt over his wrists and drops it onto the floor. His heart beats loud in his ears, thuds against his chest as he slides down to rest his head on the pillows behind him. Andy, for his part, stays quiet.

Eddie's belt buckle clacks undone and his fingers feel thick and foolish as he fumbles with the buttons of his jeans, the whirr of anticipation in his belly warming, beginning to bleed into something that feels more like arousal. He takes a deep breath, slides the denim over his thighs until it pools around his knees. He can hear Andy's breathing, the slight hitching pull he takes of the air as Eddie drags his palms up over his naked thighs; he cups himself through his briefs, inhales sharply and can't disguise the tiny groan he makes low in his throat. His hips rise, a tiny movement that Andy probably doesn't even notice, but Eddie can feel every single spasm of his own muscles, the way his thighs tense, then release. His body feels washed through with need, skin tingling with it, cock hardening under his hand. 

He's never really thought about how he looks getting himself off before, has never had a reason to question it, but now he wonders if he looks as awkward as he feels, all gangly limbs and a conspicuous spot of wetness spreading across the front of his briefs where the head of his cock leaks against them. _Fuck it_ , he thinks, sitting up and removing his jeans completely, sliding his briefs off, too. Fully naked, Eddie flops back down against the pillows, runs a hand over the jut of his hip, through the coarse curls at the base of his cock before taking it loosely in his hand. Pre-come smears over the underside of his knuckles, down over the length of his cock as he fists himself tighter. Eddie gasps and can't help but feel a little embarrassed at how hard he's become and how quickly, toes curling as he slides his thumb over the head of his cock, pleasure rushing down his spine like a lightening bolt. 

The lube is in the top drawer where it should be, bottle slightly sticky, and he would probably be ashamed if it weren't for the way Andy is looking at him, lips parted and eyes blown black beneath lids that hang heavy with want. 

Eddie's cheeks burn, flushed with nerves and want and _everything_ , all at once. He lets his thighs fall open and it feels obscene - _snap-click:_ the familiar scent of tropical fruit filling the air, the coolness of lube on his hand, warming at his touch - and no, he's never felt so open, so utterly exposed. Fingers coated, he presses a single digit inside himself, relaxes into the sensation of it, shuts his eyes against the realisation that Andy is watching him do this – _wants_ him to do this. He groans at that, tries not to imagine Andy touching him; not yet, _god_ , not yet, otherwise this isn't going to last very long. More lube (too much; it dribbles down over his wrist, pools in the crook of his elbow) and Eddie works another finger inside, cups his balls with the sticky fingers of his other hand, rolls the weight of them gently in his palm. Trembling fingers crook and fit the shape of his body, fill him up just enough that he arches his back with the pleasure of it, drags his hand away from his balls and up over his cock, pumps once, twice, breath catching in his throat. He can already feel it, the slow-burn of heat uncoiling in the pit of his belly. 

He thinks maybe he should slow down, take his time like he does when he's alone but Andy--

Andy is so quiet. When Eddie opens his eyes he can't help but notice the colour sitting pink on Andy's cheeks, the way he's sucking at his bottom lip; hands are on his thighs now, thumbs rubbing side to side, drawing higher over the fabric of his jeans. Eddie can barely stop himself from moaning, twisting the fingers inside himself as he thinks of Andy losing control. As if realising Andy stills, licks his lips and just _stares_ until Eddie feels like his bones might liquefy under the weight of Andy's gaze, flush prickling hot all over his chest. 

The dildo has rolled into the dip in the bed made by Eddies body, snug at his hip. He reaches out for it and draws the fingers from his body with a sigh, tries hard not to whimper at the loss. He has to admit it, now, that he knows how this works; skims his fingers over the smooth, artificial shell of the toy, coats the rubber in lube with slow, easy strokes. His hands have mapped the familiar shape of it through nights spent testing the ways it can make him cry out; nights spent wondering if Andy could fill him up the same; could make him feel so stretched and so god-damn crazy with want. 

Soles of his feet planted firmly on the duvet he spreads his thighs further, presses the dildo against his ass and shivers at the sensation, the anticipation of what he's about to do. Pushing deeper, Eddie exhales, opens his mouth and lets the air flow past his lips in a rush, chases it out with the low sound of a moan. He could come just like this, straddling the border between pain and the pleasure that follows, all it would take--

palming the base of his cock, it would be as easy as--

The bed quivers with movement and he hears Andy's voice over the whir in his ears, “ _Sweet Jesus_ ,” hushed and broken, sounding suddenly close. Hot air whispers against the hairs on Eddie's shin, travels slowly upward; soft brush of lips against his knee. With measured breaths he draws the toy part-way out, presses it back in and hates the way his muscles twitch so obviously, need spiking hot through his body. Eddie doesn't dare risk opening his eyes; can't look at Andy while he's doing this, fucking into himself with hard rubber, bearing down on it again and again and groaning, the desperation thick and heavy on his tongue. 

Andy's fingers connect with Eddie's inner thigh, feather-light. And Eddie would laugh - thinking that maybe Andy's nervous, too afraid to touch him when he's this unguarded - but the sound gets stuck in his throat. Instead, his body betrays him, automatically arching into the promise of more; tender pressure of Andy's thumb just beneath the arc of Eddie's knee. He inhales sharply at the feel of the hand running down toward the curve of his ass. 

Eddie's close, he knows it won't take much now – hips rolling forward when Andy moves, fits himself neatly between Eddie's open legs and carefully bends down to kiss the sensitive skin of his stomach. For a moment their fingers meet, slippery where Eddie's clutching the dildo, then Andy's knocking his hand away, easing the toy from Eddie's body completely.

Hot, damp puffs of Andy's breath trail over Eddie's thigh, teasing him until he can't stand it, slips his sticky hands into Andy's hair, tangles his fingers and tries to tug him closer. Andy's laughter fills up the room, rings in Eddie's ears like an aftershock as his hips snap forward, desperate. 

Andy runs his tongue over the seam of Eddie's balls, gently sucks the delicate skin into his mouth and drags his tongue along the juncture where thigh meets groin. He chases his own kisses with the pads of his fingers and it feels as if he's committing every flushed, sweaty inch of Eddie's body to memory. Eddie can barely breathe, bucks his pelvis weakly against the strong hand pressing him pre-emptively down into the mattress. Andy swirls his tongue over the peak of Eddie's nipple; teases him with a hand that strays dangerously close to his cock, but doesn't take hold; leans over him, palm flat on the bed by Eddie's side until they're close enough to kiss, breathing the same air. “Are you ready?” Andy whispers, and Eddie sighs, relaxes into the pillows behind him, whimpers when Andy licks across the expanse of his exposed neck before finally, _finally_ taking Eddie's cock in his hand. 

In the end it's not Andy's hand wrapped around him that does it, not the perfect friction of calloused fingers fisting velvet skin that brings him over the edge. It's the unexpected brush of Andy's thumb against his ass, a gentle reminder that has him pulsing all over Andy's knuckles, gasping into Andy's open mouth as he awkwardly tries to swallow down every single sound. 

And afterwards, Eddie's legs get weak and fall lax around Andy's body, allows him the space to move up until he's lying half across his chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of Eddie's shoulder.

“God, I fucking love you,” Andy murmurs, words hitting the stuttering pulse at Eddie's throat. Eddie huffs out a laugh and manages to persuade his arms to wrap around Andy's neck, barely managing to stifle a giggle as the dildo rolls away and hits the floor nearby with a dull and decidedly wobbly _thud._


End file.
